


I think it's you I'm looking for

by wilderwestqueen



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Modern AU, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6957919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilderwestqueen/pseuds/wilderwestqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the first words your soulmate say to you are written somewhere on your body, Astrid's mad to have one of the most common words written across her wrist. So, when a cute gu y happens to say that one word to her, there's only one thing she can do: hatch multiple schemes to find out if he's the one. [DISCONTINUED]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

" _And so, after his meddling, it was decreed that two halves of every whole would be split, and scattered across the Earth. It was humanity's punishment; all the greed and all the hatred that had torn the world to pieces, would now tear people to pieces too. All was not lost though, for Hope found a way for two halves to find each other again. After her intervention, every human was born with a set of words written somewhere on their body. These words would be the first thing their soulmate said to them. So, with Hope, came a way for two halves to be whole once more_."  
  
\- **an excerpt from _A History of Soulmates_.**

* * *

 

"God, this thing is so unholy."

Astrid's feet rest against the wall while she lays on her back, her hair spreading across the duvet, strands of blonde getting lost in the patterns across the bed. 

"There could be worse things to have on your wrist," her roommate, Heather, says from the corner of the room, her head bent over her desk, concentrating on writing the same essay that Astrid was studiously trying to ignore. "It could be profanity. Or you could have someone who tries to make first impressions by quoting Lord of the Rings."

"Funny."

Heather doesn't look up from her essay. "You can laugh, but I knew someone in school that had Aragorn's speech at the black gate written all over their thigh."

Astrid snorts. "How'd that go for them?"

"As far as I know, they never found their soulmate in school. Who knows, a day may come when they'll find an appreciation for a dedication to a certain hobbit and his exploits involving golden rings."

"But it is not this day!" Astrid yells from the bed, in a faux-deep voice that sets Heather off giggling.

She throws a pen at Astrid from the desk. "You're such a nerd," she says, hiding her smile behind her hand. "Seriously though, you could have something a lot weirder."

"Yeah, but 'hi'?" Astrid says, wiggling her wrist in Heather's direction. "'Hi' could be anyone. The first words my sixty year old married professor said to be was 'hi'. The first thing my foreign cousins said to me when I visited them in Spain last year was 'hi'. I'm still trying to cross people off the list I made of everyone that said 'hi' to me in Fresher's Week."

"How's that going for you?"

"Terribly." Astrid pouts, sticking out her lower lip and folding her arms across her chest.

"What about Daniel?" Heather asks, still not looking up from her essay.

"Not interested. Besides, he's dating Katie now. Apparently she said the words 'hey, can I borrow a pen?' and now he's besotted, so I can guess what he's got written on him somewhere," Astrid says, now fiddling with her fingernails.

"Jason?"

"He's totally into guys. He found out that he had Peter's first words written across his bicep, and now the two are inseparable. They're pretty cute, actually."

"Huh," Heather says, twirling her pen between her fingers. "What about Alice?"

Astrid gives a long sigh. "We talked about it, and she let me know that she doesn't have the first words I said to her anywhere, and she doesn't want to start anything in the meantime, in case she finds her actual soulmate. Sooo, yeah."

Heather stops writing after she hears that and turns around, resting her arms on the back of her chair, her chin atop her hands. "Sorry. I knew you liked her."

Astrid waves it off. "Doesn't matter. I'll get over it."

She slides her legs down from the wall and curls them around on the bed, holding her wrist out in front of her so she can look at the two black letters inked across her wrists. _Hi_.

'Hi' meant nothing. 'Hi' was the most inconspicuous thing anyone could possibly have as a soulmate indicator. 'Hi' was something everyone said, something so small that under ordinary circumstances, it wouldn't be something she'd ever overthink that much. It wouldn't be a word that made her heart speed up every time she heard it.

She scowls down at the words written on her wrists and scratches at them, idly hoping that she could simply scratch the word away. It doesn't budge, of course, and all she's left with is sore, red skin. She frowns and covers up the words with a watch.

"You'll find them someday, Astrid."

"Or maybe I'll be alone forever. We can't all have 'Are you alright? I swear I will fuck up the guy that tried to hurt you' written across our arms," Astrid says, something of a grin forming across her face. "How's that going, by the way?"

Heather turns bright red at that, turning away from her and sticking her nose back into her homework. "It's fine," she says, but her voice is an octave higher.

"Fine?" Astrid says, cocking an eyebrow.

"Cami doesn't know, okay?" Heather hisses, her teeth gritted. "I just mumbled thanks and ran away. She's in exactly the same boat as you."

Astrid rolls her eyes. "So tell her. Don't torture the poor girl."

"I'm just-" Heather clears her throat. "Waiting for the right time."

"And the right time will be?"

"When I figure out the right words to say," Heather says, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear and moving closer towards the desk, her nose almost touching the paper.

"I've got an idea: 'Hey, Cami, I'm super into tiny but strangely muscular chicks that punch douchebags for me, and it just so happens that I have your first words written on my arms so hey, let's get married right now," Astrid says, in a superb imitation of Heather's voice.

Heather splutters and throws another pen at Astrid, who creases up on the bed and giggles.

"Out, now," she says, pointing towards the door.

Astrid rolls off the bed, and grabs her bag from the floor, stuffing her phone and wallet inside. "You're not seriously just gonna kick me out, are you?"

"I seriously am."

"Guess I'll just go find Cami," Astrid says, her eyes glittering under the too-bright lightbulbs. "In case I need someone to protect me from douchebag guys."

"Please leave."

"Maybe I'll ask her how the soulmate search is going."

"GO."

Astrid grins and swings out of the door, slinging her bag across the shoulder.

"And I could have taken that guy in a fight, you know!" she hears Heather yell from behind the door, and it's not until she leaves the building that Astrid stops laughing.

* * *

 

It had been an exhausting day, and it was only one o'clock in the afternoon.

He'd managed to miss the bus, so he had ran all the way to campus, bursting into the first lecture of the day fifteen minutes late to be met with a frown from his professor - "You know the rules, Mr. Haddock, I'll have to mark you as absent for this class today" - which ruined his perfect attendance. He'd then had to climb over people to reach the only available seat, and had to spend the whole class with his ears burning while Scott Lout - 'Snotlout', he'd always called him in his head - jeered at him in the seat behind. Then he realised that he'd left all of his books and notes at home, rendering the whole class useless, leaving him wondering why he'd ever bothered to get out of bed this morning.

Hiccup really, really needed coffee.

He'd never gone into the campus cafe before; the prices were extortionate and Hiccup's budget was small even with the money his father sent every month. All of it had to be squandered on rent and food shopping and other essentials to keep him alive and not living in a cardboard box.

But God damn it, nothing had gone right today. He was allowed a little lapse in his strict budget every now and then, right?

For a lunch hour, Hiccup finds the cafe strangely quiet, with only a few students scattered around on chairs or at tables, drinking coffee while they work on one thing or another. There isn't a queue, so he goes straight to the till and hovers behind the counter. The cashier is faced away from him, working at the coffee machine. She doesn't seem to notice that he's there, so he clears his throat. She doesn't hear.

"Hi," he says, after waiting a few seconds.

He swears for a moment that he sees the woman stiffen. It's only for a split second though, and he decides that it's his imagination when the woman turns around and smiles at him.

The first thing that Hiccup notices is that she's really pretty. She's got golden hair that's twisted into a perfect braid, and big blue eyes that twinkle under the fluorescent lights.

"What can I do for you?" she says, still smiling wide.

Hiccup freezes. Subconsciously, his hands tug at his shirt, pulling it down over the words 'what can I do for you' that are inked across his abs. He swallows, his mouth dry as he lists his coffee order on autopilot while his brain starts to malfunction a little.

"Name?" she says.

"Hiccup," he chokes out, wondering if she's noticed that his brain has completely stopped working and he's not entirely sure how to speak.

"One moment, Hiccup," the woman behind the counter says, still with a perfect smile.

She makes him his coffee, all while he's still wondering if it's possible to forget how to breathe, and he almost turns away, completely forgetting the coffee all together.

After she's scrawled his name on the cup and he's managed to hand over a fiver, he hurries back to his resident halls, forgetting all about the study session he was about to go to.

"So, you found your soulmate. Good for you. Now will you stop pacing?" Cami says, rolling her eyes at Hiccup from her perch on the sofa.

The space is limited in the shared kitchen area, the fridge and oven taking up one half of the room, while two threadbare sofas take up the other half, with a tiny strip of floor leading to the door the only free floor space.

"No," Hiccup says, wandering up and down that tiny strip of floor. "I don't know she's my soulmate. 'What can I do for you?' isn't a unique thing to say.”

“It’s much better than ‘thanks’” Cami mutters, rubbing the word scrawled on her forearm.

 Hiccup ignores her. “And it's not like someone hasn't said it before."

"First person to say it who wasn't like, eighty years old, though. And you said that she was pretty."

"Gorgeous," Hiccup says, and groans, bending down and lying face down on the floor, his arms splayed across fake floorboards.

Cami stands up from her perch and kicks him. Hiccup lets out a long moan and doesn't get up.

"Don't tell me that it's Hiccup's Existential Crisis Hour," Cami says. "That's not scheduled for at least another three hours. It's not even five yet."

Hiccup says something, but it's muffled.

"Look," Cami sighs, crouching beside Hiccup's head. She prods him with a finger. "If you're not sure whether or not she's soulmate, then there's only one thing you can do: find out."

"Easy for you to say," Hiccup mumbles. "I don't even know her name."

* * *

 

"So, you're freaking out because some guy said 'hi' to you?" Heather says, one eyebrow raised. "I thought you were used to it by now." 

"I am, but this was different," Astrid says from where she's lying on the bed. "He was cute."

"You've said that about other guys. Other guys that said 'hi.' You said that about _Alice_ , for God's sake."

“Yeah, I know, but this time, _this time_ , is different.”

“He was guy that said ‘hi’ to you in a coffee shop,” Heather says, her voice all in one tone.

“I know!” Astrid groans and presses a pillow into her face. “There’s no way I could ever find out. It’s not like what I said was any less generic.”

“What did you say?”

“‘What can I do for you?’”

“Oh.”

“I know,” Astrid whines, drawing out the word.

“Alright, I can’t take this anymore,” Heather says, getting up from her desk to poke Astrid in the side, earning her a groan. She dodges as Astrid swipes her hand at her. “Get up. If you don’t know if he’s your soulmate, then you gotta go find out.”

Astrid removes the pillow from her face, the small spark coming back to her eyes. “You have some ideas in mind, don’t you, Miss Heather?”

“Well, seeing as you ask, Miss Astrid,” Heather says, her eyes shining as a grin forms on her face. “Maybe one or two.”


	2. Chapter 2

Astrid and Heather's room is a tip. Astrid's essays and coursework have been dumped haphazardly all over the bed, the floor is littered with different items of clothing, and both their desks are covered with empty food packets and sweet wrappers.

Heather sits cross-legged on her bed, twirling noodles around a plastic fork. "Okay, so," she says, her voice muffled from the food in her mouth. "What do we know about him?"

"We know he studies English," Astrid says, "and that he also lives in halls, though which one is anyone's guess."

It was all information that they'd discovered from stalking him on Facebook hours earlier. After having to listen to Astrid whine about this boy she'd met, Heather had decided she'd had enough.

"What's his name?" she asked.

"Hiccup."

A few minutes later, Heather had turned her laptop screen around to show Hiccup's Facebook page. "This him?"

Astrid squinted at the profile picture. "How'd you find him?"

"Come on, Astrid," she said, rolling her eyes. "How many people do you think there are that go to our school with a name like _Hiccup_?"

The first stage of their plan was done; they knew the guy's full name and they knew a few things about him. Now it was time for stage two.

Astrid groans and flops onto the bed, pulling a pillow over her head. "This is stupid," she says. "We don't even know if he's _the_ guy. He's just a guy that happened to say the word on my wrist."

"So that's why we find out," Heather says, stirring her pot of noodles while she talks. "I hope he is, actually. Then you can go through the agony of trying to tell someone that they're your soulmate, and I can laugh at you for a change."

Astrid throws her pillow at Heather. With lightning fast reflexes, Heather blocks it and throws it back, laughing when it hits Astrid square in the face.

"Seriously, Astrid," Heather says. "We know he does English, so all you gotta do is hang around near the English rooms, wait until you inevitably bump into him and then initiate conversation."

Astrid raises an eyebrow. "Initiate conversation?" 

"Yes."

"Right," Astrid says, dryly. "Now I see why you have such a problem with Cami." 

"Hey!"

"I'm not just gonna hang around the English block on the off chance I might bump into a guy I've met one time," Astrid says, throwing her arms up into the air. "That sounds like a one way train to awkward city."

"You got any better ideas?" Heather says.

Astrid sticks her lower lip out in a pout. "No."

"Who's got problems now?"

Astrid throws her pillow again.

* * *

 

Little did they know that across campus, a very similar conversation had gone on, and a similar plan had been set in motion.

"Are you honest to God actually wearing sunglasses right now?"

"It's a disguise."

Hiccup presses his back against the side of the bookcase, shifting around to peek across the room at a set of table and chairs. His face is covered by large sunglasses, his hair covered up underneath a fedora.

"A disguise."

"I have to look inconspicuous," Hiccup says, still straining around the bookcase, ducking his head to look over the top of the frames.

Cami clicks her tongue against her teeth. "You're indoors."

"Hmm."

"In a fucking library."

"Your point?"

"My point," Cami says, elongating her words. "Is that you are about as inconspicuous as an elephant wearing a cocktail dress. You might as well be wearing a neon sign saying 'I am Hiccup. I am a creepy stalker.'"

"You have no respect for covert operations."

"You're wearing a fedora."

"And?"

"And, you look like you're going to tell me any second that you belong to an elite gaming society and that women should shave their armpits."

Hiccup scowls and takes the fedora off, messing his hair up with one hand. "Will you just take a look for me?"

Cami sighs and takes up Hiccup's place at the bookshelf, scanning the room. "Who am I looking at?"

"In the corner. The blonde one with the big stack of books," Hiccup mutters.

Cami frowns for a moment before she finds the person Hiccup's pointing at. "Oh," Cami says, her eyes going wide. "I know who that is."

* * *

 

"Red fucking alert," Heather whispers into Astrid's ear, slipping into the seat next to her, nudging Astrid's books out of her way. "Cami's in the library."

"Oh really?" Astrid says, not looking up from the book she has open on the table. "Why would she be here? I mean, it's not like she goes to our university. Or that she's in half of your classes. Or that she'd have any reason to want to study."

"Ha, ha," Heather hisses. "What if she sees me?"

"That'd be a nightmare," Astrid says, her voice dry.

"Astrid, please."

Astrid rolls her eyes and looks up from her book the first time since Heather had sat down. "Are you going to freak out every time you might run into Cami? Because I can tell you this is going to get you nowhere."

"I'm working on it!"

"How many times have you talked to her?"

Heather blushes. "Six."

"You're keeping count?"

Someone shushes them from across the table, and the two of them duck their heads.

"Hiccup's with her," Heather says, after a moment.

Astrid's head snaps up. "Why didn't you say so?" she hisses, gathering her books together and dumping them into her bag. "Let's go."

She tugs Heather by the wrist.  

"Where are we going?"

"Out of here," Astrid mutters. "What if he sees me?"

Heather lets out a splutter of laughter. "Miss Hofferson, I hope you realise that you are the biggest hypocrite.”

* * *

 

“Astrid Hofferson,” Cami says, rolling her eyes and taking a sip from the mug of tea in her hands. “I told you before, we share a couple of classes and I know her roommate, Heather, y’know - the girl that was being harassed by those guys.”

“Astrid,” Hiccup says.

“Yup.”

“Astrid.”

“Do you want me to write it down for you?”

“You know Astrid.”

Cami throws her hands up into the air. “Yeah, I think we’ve established that.”

“You can talk to Astrid for me,” Hiccup says, twisting around in his seat and resting his chin on the back, smiling up at Cami.

“Aaaand, no,” Cami says, turning on her heel and pouring the rest of her tea into the sink, rinsing out the mug.

“C’mon, this is so perfect. You talk to Astrid, you mention me, maybe invite her over, how is this not perfect?” Hiccup says, still grinning madly.

“I’m not going to talk to a girl for you. That’s your job.”

Cami swings out of the shared kitchen area down the hallway to her room. Hiccup follows.

“Please, Cami?”

Cami stops, her hand on the doorknob. “Actually, you know what,” Cami says, matching Hiccup’s earlier grin. “I will talk to Astrid. I’ll make sure to tell her everything I know about you, like that your closest friend is a cat that you named _Toothless_ , you have an unhealthy obsession with dragons, to the point where your room looks like it belongs to an eight year old, oh, and your duvet cover is Jake fucking Long.”

A pause. Hiccup’s face shifts from an expression of glee to one of pure horror.

“Hey, I’ve changed my mind, I _do_ want to talk to Astrid,” Cami says, her eyes twinkling. “Night, Hiccup!”

“Cami, no.”

She closes the door on him.

“Cami!” Hiccup yells, banging on her door. “Do not talk to Astrid!” 

He can hear her cackling behind the door.

* * *

 

“This is perfect,” Heather enthuses, stretching out her arms and flopping onto her bed.

“Is it?”

“You know Cami. Cami knows Hiccup, ergo you talk to Cami, find out about Hiccup,” Heather says. There’s a pause. “Aaaand, you could y’know, possibly put in a good word for me, maybe tell a few good stories, mention your best friend and roommate…”

Astrid scoffs and turns on her side, facing away from Heather. “Of course.”

“C’mon, Astrid, can you not see how perfect this is?”

“I am aware of certain benefits.”

Heather rolls her eyes. “What about it isn’t perfect, then?”

“Like, what am I supposed to say?” Astrid says, sitting up in her bed and resting her hands on her knees. “‘Hi, we’ve had like three conversations, but my roommate happens to be your soulmate and I like your friend Hiccup despite only having met him once, and I think he might be _my_ soulmate, that’s not weird is it?’”

Heather laughs. “You don’t have to say it like that. And don’t tell her about the soulmate thing,” she says, flashing her stern look. “Just... be casual. Friendly.”

“Friendly.”

“Yes, friendly.”

“…Do you know how wrong that could go in so many ways?” Astrid says, throwing her arms in the air. “I tried being _friendly_ with Freddy the first week of Freshers and the poor boy still thinks I hate him.”

“Okay, well Freddy’s… Freddy,” Heather says, hiding her grin behind her hand. “And it’s not your fault that your ‘friendly’ comes across competitive and somewhat combative.”

“I’m not combative.”

“Yes, you are,” Heather says, hopping off her bed and reaching for a book.

“I am not.”

“Yeah, you are,” Heather says, sliding on her glasses before tucking herself back into bed.

“I am not!” Astrid says, tossing her pillow at Heather.

The pillow hits Heather in the face, and she presses her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. “And when did you start resorting to violence to solve arguments?” she says, turning a page of her book.

Astrid groans and flops back down onto her bed. “Fine. I’ll talk to Cami.”

“Good.”

* * *

 

The sun is hot, even through the window pane, and Astrid can feel her eyes aching, and her head threatening to droop onto the desk. She’s trying to listen to what the lecturer’s saying, she’s really trying, but she’s so tired, and the desk would make a perfect pillow right now…

“A fiver says that he manages to slip it at least three more references to Freud,” someone whispers behind her.

Astrid tilts her head to see none other than Cami, looking down at her with a smirk on her face. Her eyes flicker down to her watch. Only fifteen minutes more of the lecture.

“No way,” she says, under her breath.

“Don’t underestimate a teacher’s ability to bring up Freud,” Cami whispers back.

The fifteen minutes pass, extra slowly, with the lecturer bringing up Freud not three, but five times. By the end of it, Astrid’s ready to jump out of a window.

She’s already half-way out the door by the time the teacher dismisses them.

“Hey, you owe me a fiver!” Cami calls before she can get down the corridor.

“You said three times, not five,” Astrid says.

“Technicalities. Astrid, right?”

Astrid doesn’t really know how it happens, but the two of them start walking down the same path, despite neither of them knowing where the other is going. “Yeah,” Astrid says. “And you’re Cami. You helped my roommate, Heather, a while back when some douchebags were harassing her.”

“You know about that?”

“Yeah,” Astrid says, a grin poking at the corners of her mouth. “All she ever talks about.”

It might just be the trick of the light, but Astrid thinks she can see the hint of a blush spreading across Cami’s cheeks.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Astrid says. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Cami.”

“Wish I could say the same about you,” Cami says. “We haven’t really talked that much, in the month we’ve been here. You wanna get some coffee, or something?”

“Sure, I actually work in the coffee shop on campus, so I get a discount.”

“I’m liking you more and more,” Cami says, smiling. “So, hey, have you met my roommate Hiccup? He’s all about the coffee…”   



End file.
